It is great to live abroad as a student: learning so much from so many different people. And when you’re feeling sad of being far from your loved ones, you remember they think of you and a part of their spirit is by your side.
But then there is this tiny pain, when you remember the only person whose spirit you cannot be sure anymore of. How could you assume your adored grand-aunt, suffering from Alzheimer, is thinking of you? Your common memories, the moments you shared alone with her, you’re probably the only one to remember. Your sister’s too young, your parents are too old, your lover barely knows her, your friends have no clue who she is.
You would just like to sit next to her and hold her hand, like she used to do to secure you when you crossed the streets. And maybe simply by touching her hand, you will feel again all this love she’s got for you and how she remembered what was your favourite pastry. Because you cannot see that anymore in her eyes, you hope that it will flow like a magical fluid by the light pressure of your nails on her skin.
You would like to retain all these slipping memories in your palms and you are so afraid of slowly forgetting the true person she is. It is a strange feeling to miss someone who is still there, because how she looks like now is so different from who she used to be. It is so hard to be far during these years where her awareness is gradually drowning. It is so hard to think that a day will probably come when there will be only holding hands for her to recall who you are. It is painful to envisage that you may not be there on this day.
It is tough to live abroad as a student: you have to give up on holding hands, even though you know that could be the last bridge between you and a person you shared so much with.
Take action! This post was submitted in response to My Story: Holding Hands.